Secrets, Lies, and Lullabies
by How Lestrange
Summary: Minerva McGonagall has always been strong. But we all have a weakness. And Minerva's just happens to be that she can't let go of an old flame. When she learns that she is on her way to motherhood, Minerva finds herself torn between honesty and judgment. But what role will her child play in the quickly approaching war? …Loosely cannon compliant. Adopted from denimgirl1.
1. NEWTs

**_NOTE_**

**_For the sake of this story_**; _everything that happens between Minerva McGonagall and Dougal McGregor as well as McGonagall and Elphinstone Urquart takes place in the years leading up to the First Wizarding War. Also for this story's sake, Urquart's demise comes prior to that of McGregor._

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**Part One: Minerva**

**Chapter One: NEWTs**

Minerva walked slowly toward the hospital wing, her eyes unfocused and her mind swimming with sudden realizations. Questions she had asked herself a few months prior plagued her once more. _What have I done? How could I have let this happen? How…irresponsible._

The doors to her destination were open to admit her entrance, but the matron was already busy fussing over a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy who happened to have a broken wrist.

She leaned against the doors as an overwhelming sensation of fatigue washed over her. It was only then that Minerva realized she had missed breakfast due to waking with a migraine and an insoluble urge to vomit. Now here she was at the hospital wing instead of the Great Hall.

Minerva closed her eyes as bright afternoon sunlight filtered through the high infirmary windows. Being both mentally and physically unable to propel them away, she let thoughts of the mistakes she had made in the past four months slip back into her already occupied mind.

As the memories replayed over and over in her mind like broken records, Minerva was finding it just as hard to breathe as it was to stand at the moment.

The matron, aware of the subtle buckle of Minerva's knees, quickly sent the boy on his way and took a few quick strides over to Minerva. She tried asking her colleague what was wrong after she had gotten her settled on the nearest cot but the professor looked as though she was in an unbreakable daze.

"Minerva? Will you please tell me what's wrong? You're scaring me." After yet another failed attempted at getting her to talk, the nurse figured that if she'd give her a moment, she would soon find her voice. Sure enough Minerva drew a shaky breath and began to speak, though regrettably without making much sense to the aforetime confused matron.

"I don't know what to do. I thought about it, but it's not fair, not when she wouldn't have a chance. But it would change everything. Poppy, I don't─" Minerva broke off and silently cursed herself as unshed tears started to sting her eyes.

"Mina, what exactly is this about? You're not making much sense." Poppy was now thoroughly confused. Never before had she seen Minerva McGonagall look so distraught.

Well, maybe that wasn't completely true. The last time Minerva (or Mina as Poppy liked to call her) was this unsure of herself was when Dougal McGregor was in the picture but, as far as Poppy knew, that was a number of years ago.

Minerva had since been both engaged and married to Elphinstone Urquart. Urquart, however, had passed about three months prior due to a Venomous Tentacula bite. Minerva had been devastated at the time and decided to spend a few days with her family at her childhood home. Upon her return she had moved from her former home in Hogsmeade back to her study here at Hogwarts.

"That's just it, Poppy," Minerva began bringing her friend back to the present. "It doesn't make sense. I can't be. I just can't."

Poppy, now having a sneaking suspicion of what the professor was on about, reached for her wand and discreetly pulled it out of her pocket.

"Mina, if you are implying what I think you are─" Minerva looked up at Poppy as a single involuntary tear slid down her sleep-deprived face.

Poppy quickly looked around the wing (which currently housed no ill students due to the fact that the NEWTs were to take place soon and most of the students who spent their time in the hospital wing were currently located in the library) then to the doors which she had closed when she'd led Minerva away from them. She then pointed her wand directly at Minerva; just above her hairline.

"May I?" the matron asked as she recalled a spell from her memory. Minerva gave a curt nod and Poppy ran her wand down the length of her friend's body and back, muttering under her breath as she went.

"It's a diagnostic spell, a complex one, but it will give specific details." Poppy explained as her wand fell back to her side.

Minerva opened her mouth to speak but the sudden radiant yellow glow of her skin stopped her. Poppy's eyes widened at the sight then flicked to the clock on the wall above the doors.

After about a minute, Minerva spoke quietly as tears still threatened to spill. "Poppy? What does it mean?"

"It means, my dear," she began, eyes still glued to the clock. "That you are indeed expecting."

At that point Minerva had lost all resolve and broke down completely. Her once strong façade replaced by that of pure sorrow. Poppy turned to Minerva and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Mina," she started with a small, sad smile on her face. "Aren't you happy?"

All Minerva could manage to do at the moment was to shake her head. She began taking deep calming breaths, cursing herself yet again for being so foolish. Foolish for what mistake had led her to this.

As the yellow glow of Minerva's skin faded, Poppy looked back at the clock. "The glow lasted about three minutes, so you're just a smidge under three months along." The nurse explained.

"How could I have let this happen? What have I done?" Minerva asked faintly, finally voicing her earlier doubts to Poppy at last.

Instead of attempting to answer the professor's questions, Poppy asked her own. "Elphinstone fathered the child, did he not? Is that why you're so upset, dear?"

"Indeed. Elphinstone was the father," Minerva affirmed but not without notable hesitance. "Though that is not why I am upset. This was─_ is_ a complete mistake. How am I to raise a child when there is a war on our doorstep? You can deny it all you like Poppy but you know it's true. How could I bring a child into the world knowing what lies in the near future?"

Poppy tried consoling her friend but Minerva's stubborn nature just wouldn't allow it. She had heard the bit of hesitance in the professor's voice but refused to question it. "Minerva, how could you be so sure? Hardly anything has happened─"

"_Yet_, Poppy, hardly anything has happened _yet_. Things could be different in ten years, in twenty years. There is no telling how this could end. No telling how it truly begins."

Somewhere deep down Poppy knew Minerva was right. Things could go from bad to worse with as little as a flick of the wand. _Well_, she thought, _there's only one thing you can do at a time like this_.

"You'll have to speak to Albus, you know. As soon as possible. I could come with you if you'd like."

Minerva nodded in agreement, silently thanking Merlin that she didn't have to face the Headmaster alone. "Of course. I suppose we should do that now."

Before they could leave, however, Poppy, suddenly remembering something, turned to Minerva. "When we're finished with the Headmaster would you mind coming back down here with me? There are a few more diagnostics I would like to perform. It's nothing major, just to ensure your health…and the baby's."

Heading toward the infirmary exit, Minerva uncharacteristically bit her lip. The one thing Minerva had always been determined to be was honest, yet here she was not even able to be honest with herself. Why had she told Poppy that Elphinstone was the father?_ Because she wouldn't understand_, she told herself, _no one would_. She sighed as if to clear her mind and continued on her way, Poppy on her heels.

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_Questions? Comments? Concerns? –Sonya_


	2. Fizzing Whizbees

_**Note**_

_**Just to clear things up; **this story is currently set in the 1960's. This means that Minerva McGonagall would only be in her mid-twenties/early-thirties.**  
**_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not now, nor ever will, own any Harry Potter character; for they belong to J. K. Rowling. I will, however, own the OC that will appear in later chapters and all of part two._

* * *

**Part One: Minerva**

**Chapter Two: Fizzing Whizbees**

As Poppy followed Minerva down the corridors to the Headmaster's office, the matron couldn't help but feel drunk on happiness and elation. Her dearest friend was on her way to parenthood. The thought itself was something surreal.

Ever since they were young, Minerva had always said that she would never be a suitable mother, her stubborn persona playing a part in her juvenile resolve. Poppy, on the other hand, thought otherwise. She believed that stubbornness was needed in a good parent.

In fact, now that she thought of it, a stubborn nature _was exactly_ what a good parent needed. Especially in these modern times, when things seemed colder. Darker.

Instantly, Poppy was reminded of her earlier conversation with the professor. She couldn't deny that Mina had been right about the possibilities of war – the signs were everywhere. Endless.

The matron's thoughts were cut short as she nearly ran into Minerva. Only then did she realize that they had reached the gargoyle-protected staircase which lead to the Headmaster's office.

"I can't do it, I can't tell him: He'll think me a fool." Minerva whispered.

Poppy folded her arms across her chest, her chin lifted high as she spoke in a voice similar to her companion's. "Minerva McGonagall is no fool."

"…though you would be a fool to believe so." Minerva finished, remembering herself saying that years ago.

Poppy, still in character, looked passed Minerva to the stone gargoyle. "Fizzing Whizbees." The guard, approving the given password, leapt aside, revealing the stair studded passage.

"After you," Poppy said but found that Minerva was still rooted to her spot, her gaze lingering on the ascending stairs. The matron, knowing she was full of uncertainty, uncrossed her arms and offered one to her friend. She knew the professor didn't want to do this alone and Poppy had no intentions of letting her. "Together?"

Minerva broke out of her daze and accepted her colleague's arm. She would be forever grateful for Poppy's intuition.

"Together," the professor agreed, and the pair ascended the stairs to the Headmaster's office.

* * *

_Questions? Comments? Concerns? -Sonya_


	3. You Have a Class to Teach

_**Note**_

_**Just to clear things up; **this story is currently set in the 1960's. This means that Minerva McGonagall would only be in her mid-twenties/early-thirties.**  
**_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not now, nor ever will, own any Harry Potter character; for they belong to J. K. Rowling. I will, however, own the OC that will appear in later chapters and all of part two._

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_**Dedicated to:** My tenth reviewer, _Mirabelle P

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**Part One: Minerva**

**Chapter three: You Have a Class to Teach **

"Enter." Came the voice of Albus Dumbledore through thick oak doors. Poppy gave Minerva an encouraging nod and together they entered the Headmaster's office.

Once inside, the pair took in their surroundings. Both the matron and the professor have been in the office before, but, curiously, every time they entered seemed like the first; there would always be something new and interesting that would somehow leave them amazed.

Trinkets and books lined most of the shelves in the circular room, while windows and portraits took up nearly all of the wall space. A desk littered with parchment and ink and strange silver instruments sat just off center of the office.

By the looks of it, it seemed all that was missing was the Headmaster himself.

As if hearing the women's silent musings, Albus made his presence known. "Good afternoon, ladies."

The sudden sound in the quiet room caused both women to jump. Their eyes traced over every inch of the cluttered room before landing on the form of Albus Dumbledore.

The Headmaster stood upon a landing of stairs which, Minerva figured, either lead to another room or a closet of sorts. He was draped in his usual attire; long, flowing, colorful robes, currently in a brilliant shade of crimson-red. Mischief-twinkling, piercing blue eyes shown over the wire rims of the half-moon eyeglasses he adorned on his aging face.

The hem of his robes just grazed the stairs as he descended them. "To what, might I ask, do I owe the pleasure?"

"Headmaster," Poppy began, knowing Minerva wasn't going to. "Professor McGonagall, here, has some good news."

"And what might that be, Professor?"

The matron removed her arm from Minerva's grasp, having offered it to the professor for extra comfort, and gave her a gentle push forward.

Minerva took a deep breath before speaking, but found the words were harder to get out than she thought. "Well I, um...I'm-"

"Let me guess," Dumbledore interrupted, the twinkle in his eye shining brighter than before. "You...have finished writing to the school board about improving safety measures?"

Minerva, taken off guard by the headmaster's inquiry, stammered a bit before coming up with a coherent response. "Yes, yes I've finished writing the board. I meant to send the owl this morning, but something came up..."

They continued conversing about safety precautions, and wards and thing that were completely irrelevant to the matron's and professor's visit and, at this rate; Poppy knew they would never get anywhere. So, cutting in on the discussion, she tried a different approach.

"Sir, please, Minerva wasn't feeling well this morning. She came to see me. She was rambling on about- well, actually, I'm not really quite sure what she was on about. But something she said piqued my curiosity, so...I cast a Charm..._Fertilitatem Mendacium_..."

The headmaster cocked a brow, the amused twinkle still evident in his piercing blue gaze. "Is that what I think it is?"

Minerva could have sworn she heard Poppy mutter 'for the love of Merlin', before the Professor confirmed Dumbledore's inquiry.

"I'm pregnant, Albus. Yes, I've made a mistake. It was...foolish, irresponsible, and -"

"Wonderful, really," The Headmaster interrupted once more. "Congratulations, Minerva. It seems Poppy made an understatement when she said you have good news; for I should think this as _great_ news."

Poppy looked thrilled. Minerva looked positively scandalized.

"Great news? It's...horrible." the professor concluded, lamely. She would have gone on ranting about how her mistake could potentially harm her unborn son or daughter, but knew the Headmaster would have none of it.

"Minerva, children are but our most valuable resources, they are the living messages we send to a time we will not see. Now, if I know you, Minerva; I'm sure you're wondering how you could bring a child into this world. Well, the answer is clear, is it not? Because there is no other world and because the child has no other way into it?"

Minerva was at a loss of how to respond, but she had never really thought about her situation that way. She could only look at it negatively, only seeing the error in her ways, rather than the great opportunity that lay before her.

"Um, Mina?" Poppy started, after glancing at the grandfather clock that stood tall behind Dumbledore's desk. "We should probably get back to the hospital wing; lunch is nearly over and I know you have a class to teach, but there are still a few things we have to go over."

A few moments passed before the professor distractedly said "Right, of course," and began to head for the exit, both women thanking the Headmaster for his time.

Poppy exited the office first but Minerva was stopped before she could leave.

"Minerva," the Headmaster began, and the witch turned her attention back to him. "Is there something...you wish to tell me?"

Minerva could have told him then; could have told him her entire life story: all her faults, the truth about her pregnancy, everything; and then maybe she could actually sleep at night. But instead of 'fessing up, Minerva shook her head, untrusting of the truth not to come pouring out if she opened her mouth to utter a simple "no, Sir." Besides, Poppy was waiting just outside Albus' door and the matron played a rather large part in the professor's story,

Whether she knew it or not.

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_Questions? Comments? Concerns? -Sonya_


	4. The Most Peculiar Thing

**_Note_**

_**This chapter is different**__ from the previous three in two ways: 1 - it's solely a__** flashback**__ & 2 - It's __**told in first person**__ (not Minerva's, by the way)_

_if this goes over well there will be other chapters like this one; Let me know what you think in a review? _

**_Also_**

_Sorry for the false alarm to those who have already read this chapter...I have only updated because this chapter has now been beta-read._

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**Part One: Minerva**

**Chapter Four: The Most Peculiar Thing**

_I never really expected much when my family and I moved to the Highlands. Not that I should have expected some great life changing event or anything of the like. I was really never one for change. Ironically, though I wouldn't have known at the time_,_ that was exactly what would transpire._

_The outskirts of Caithness were open and vast. Fields spread out as far as the eye could see; some were unused and overgrown and some that seemed to have been freshly plowed. It was in one of the more tidy fields that my family had decided to settle. _

_It hadn't been much different from the ranch where we had previously resided - if anything, the three lots surrounding our farm house seemed larger than the old four we had left._

_There weren't many other houses in the area, just one to the left and a few to the right. I suppose you couldn't really consider the house to the left "in the area" since it was at least half a mile away and separated from my residence by a field of soil and several million corn stalks._

_It was in that field that I met the most interesting people._

_I had been helping my father out in the corn field one afternoon when I came across the most peculiar thing. A few feet from where I stood, a small ball clearly made of glass lay in the soil, glinting in the afternoon sun. I glanced around, half expecting to find the owner of such an object, but - to no surprise - found nothing but tall green stalks._

_I studied it a bit. It was round and transparent with a single gold ring around it. I picked it up to get a closer look._

_I brushed my fingertips over the gold to remove some stubborn soil and in doing so found that the ball had a small engraving: M.M.- the owner's initials, most likely._

_I had been so caught up in my examination of the intricate glass that I hadn't noticed I was no longer alone in my corn husk haven._

_"Oi!" I started at the nearby voice and looked up from the ball in my soil-covered hands. A boy, no more than a few years younger than me, stood tall in all his windswept glory._

_A moment went past during which neither of us said a word. The boy just stood there, one index finger extended in my direction. His green eyes shifted from my blue to the object I still held in my hand and back before he spoke again._

_"Where did ye get 'at?" His Scottish accent was a lot thicker than my own but I had no problem understanding it. I knew he was talking about the glass ball; it must have been his, but I wasn't quite ready to give it up just yet._

_"Oh, this?" I began, casually tossing the thing in the air a couple times before I added, "Found it. Reckon it's mine now."_

_The boy let out a nervous sort of laugh. "Be careful with it, lad. It's mah sister's, she'll kill me if she doesn't get it back. I nicked it from 'er, ye see? And she's out here somewhere, lookin' fur it… and me."_

_I wasn't quite sure I believed him. But before I could question him about it, someone came shooting out of the rows of corn to the right and took to standing between the boy and myself._

_"Malcolm! Where is it?" a firm but feminine voice demanded. She was wearing this green, frilly, out-of-date sort of number. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it - until she decided to listen to what I assumed were her brother's protests. She turned around and when she did, I was graced with quite the view. The neckline of her afternoon dress was cut low and had she bent down, her bosoms would have looked like two puppies trying to climb over a fence. When she inhaled, the bodice stretched tight across her bust, and boy, was it something to see! I tried my best not to stare but I couldn't exactly help it._

_"Does somethin' interest ye, laddie?" Once the words escaped her mouth, I knew she was aware of my gaze._

_I tried to play it off without really thinking before I spoke. If I said something that I would regret, I could just regret it later and use it to my advantage now._

_"Aye, a couple of things." I pointedly glanced back to her chest._

_"Ye know," she went on as if I hadn't said a thing, "it isn't polite to stare."_

_"So ye like to talk manners? Well in 'at case, miss, it also isn't polite to trespass on other people's property."_

_Her green eyes flashed with something akin to anger and for a moment I wasn't sure if I should run or apologize. Apparently I didn't have to do either as the lass took to changing the subject._

_"Look, can I just have 'at back?" she asked, glancing down towards my hands. "It's mine."_

_I too glanced down. I had forgotten that I still held the glass ball but when I saw it in my soil-stained hands, I wasn't sure if it was the same ball I had found minutes ago. This ball was red and cloudy - different from the one I held before but with the same golden ring around it and bearing the same engraved initials: M. M._

_I must have spoken the initials aloud, prompting the girl to speak again. "Minerva McGonagall," she said. Clearly I made a face that said, "you lost me" because she sighed with a hint of agitation and repeated herself._

_"Minerva McGonagall. That's my name, those are my initials, and that's my ball. Can I have it back, please?"_

_I looked down to the ball once more and was so startled by its once again clear glass that I nearly dropped it. The lass – Minerva - caught it though and sent me one sharp look._

_"Thank ye," she said stiffly in her thick Scottish brogue._

_Trying to regain my composure, I replied, "You're welcome, Minerva." Her name left a bittersweet taste on my tongue._

_She lifted an already perfectly arched brow and said, "I assume you have a name as well? What is it?"_

_I realized that the softer Minerva spoke, the thinner her accent became. I wondered why I had noticed that. Usually I wasn't one to take note of minor details, unless it had something to do with how the crops fared in certain weather or when I was sitting in my room, hearing nothing for hours but the soft swishing sound of my paint brush on paper. But for some unknown reason, Minerva's accent - or lack thereof - was something begging to be noticed._

_Oh, and I noticed it._

_But that wasn't all that drew my attention. She had dark hair, forest green eyes hidden behind thick, dark lashes, and a pretty face, tainted only slightly by the 'if looks could kill' stare, and a subtle sharpness to her tone. She seemed to carry an air of brilliance and superiority, though she didn't make me feel the least bit inferior. It made me wonder if I had really only just met her or if we had encountered one another long ago in some place far from crops and fields._

_Minerva sighed her sort of annoying, agitated sigh and I remembered she asked for my name. I thought I should answer before she could walk away and leave me with nothing but the sour memory of our meeting. And the better but still sour memory of her low-cut neckline._

_I extended my now empty right hand to her and introduced myself to the bonnie lass that stood before me. "Dougal McGregor." I knew the hand I offered was still soil-coated, but I wanted to see if she would shake it all the same._

_To my surprise, she hardly hesitated before placing her pristine hand in mine. "Pleasure," she said, accent thickening by the second. "Now if you'll excuse me, ah need to have a talk with mah brother."_

_My grip tightened around her hand when she said this, surprising myself just as much as it did her. I had to recall some thoughts from earlier before I could even attempt to explain my actions. Regret it later and use it to my advantage now._

_"Why don't you leave him for a while? Come walk with me. Besides, he ran off a bit before - I doubt you'll find him again."_

_"Perhaps another time," Minerva suggested and something in her voice gave me hope that she meant it. "I really must speak with my brother."_

_She spoke so sincerely that I had to let her go. There was a distant tingle in my hand as it dropped to my side. I suddenly needed to ensure that our paths would cross once more, but I wanted to hear her say it. "At least say we'll see each other again then, Minerva."_

_"I'm sure we'll meet again… Dougal." Her voice was only a whisper when she said it, but there was a force behind it. Determination, maybe? But while I was trying to figure it out, she had slipped away without a sound and I was left with nothing but the promise that we would meet again._

_And meet again we did – many times in fact._

_In some place far from crops and fields._

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_Questions? Comments? Concerns? let me know in a review. - Sonya_


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